Title: Mother Love part 3
Author: Angie
Rating: PG
Summary: Frodo spends summer holidays with his Uncle Bilbo in the years
after his parent's death. There he gets to know the Gamgee family and
becomes especially attached to Bell.
Do not own, do not profit. Just like playing with them.
It was near 5 in the morning before anything like normality was resumed in the Gamgee household. The Gaffer sat in the kitchen looking very much the worse for the whole ordeal – and from his looks it was debatable just who had just given birth. Hamfast was very fond of his wife. They had married for love (and not for her rhubarb crumble as he was wont to joke) and that love had not faded one bit in all their years together.
The doctor had gone on his way earlier with a stern aside to Hamfast. "No more children," Dr Bramble had said. "You've a fine healthy brood already. Don't push your luck." And the Gaffer had nodded earnestly.
Bell was still sleeping and so was the babe. Hamfast had been glad to abandon all his fine male names in the face of the little scrap that was his newborn daughter. "Marigold it is then m'love," he kissed his exhausted wife.
Dawn was creeping over the hedgerows and hills of Hobbiton as he went out to get a breath of fresh air. It had been a filthy night – inside and out. One of those sultry summer thunderstorms had been brewing all evening and had finally split open the skies around midnight; much to the relief of all. The rain has been sloughing it down ever since and was only now slowing.
The house was very silent behind him. The children had been hurriedly packed away to neighbours but would be coming home soon as hobbits set out to work. There was already smoke coming from a few chimneys further down the hill.
Slowly the Gamgee family gathered at the breakfast table with May acting in her mother's place, and just about managing to produce edible porridge. Hamson was the last one home; having used the excuse to go and stay with his sweetheart's family and Hamfast frowned as his son walked in the door. "And where's our Samwise?"
"I thought he was with May and Daisy," said Halfred.
And so the Gamgee's first discovered their loss.
"Run up hill and see if he went with Mr Baggins," the Gaffer told his eldest son. "And don't any of you breathe a word of this to your ma."
Bilbo was awoken by a banging on his front door and went to answer it grumbling and pulling on his dressing gown. His heart sank when he saw the breathless Halfred on his doorstep – sure that the worst had happened.
"Beggin' pardon Mr Baggins, sir. Da said to ask if Sam's 'ere?" the boy asked, taking Bilbo completely off guard.
"Pardon?"
"Samwise. We don't know where 'e is."
Bilbo took a moment to take in this news and patted his dressing gown pockets distractedly as though he hoped to find the missing toddler in them. "Well, lets ask Frodo. The lad might have stayed here last night. How is your mother?"
"Fine, Sir, and the little un."
"I am very glad to hear it." Bilbo padded off down the corridor and got his second shock of the morning. No Frodo, and his bed had not been slept in, and the usual pile of yesterday's worn clothing was not thrown half on the chair and half off.
"Sticklebacks!" the old hobbit swore. "Where is that boy?"
Frodo's headlong flight had been bought to an abrupt halt by the turn in the weather forcing him to find shelter for himself and the small hobbit he had abducted. Looking out onto the dripping world and doing his fair share of dripping himself. He shivered and hunched further in on himself trying to sit on his feet to keep them warm.
In his attempt to escaped the possible tragedy last evening he had not really though about anything. He had some idea that if he ran fast enough he could outrun the possibility that Bell might die in childbirth. His distraught mind had fixated on that thought – he could not bear it if she died as well, if little Sam had no mother. And so he had taken Sam with him to protect him.
His thoughts were in a jumble.
Frodo turned his head. Sam lay sleeping behind him in a natural depression in the side of the hill. An overhang of grassy ledge kept the little boy quite protected from the elements and he was snugly wrapped up in Frodo's jacket. He would be waking soon though and wanting his breakfast and Frodo had none to give.
The older boy ran his fingers through his wet curls and rested his forehead on his soaked trouser knee. He did not know where to go or what to do. He had been a fool last night, running off like that. Maybe on his own he could have run away somewhere, to Bree or beyond – though he was vague as to what he would do once he was there. But his impetuousness had involved Samwise – and he would have to take the boy back and face it.
Resigning himself to this course of action Frodo went to retrieve Sam. The little boy was just yawning and rubbing his eyes with a chubby fist. "Come on Sam," Frodo said. "Time to take you home."
Trusting and unprotesting Sam went once more silently with his older friend.
Frodo's feet were leaden as they trod the muddy path back to The Hill. He felt like every step was dragging him back to the horrible reality of Bell's death. He shivered and hoisted Sam up to sit on his hip, still wrapped in Frodo's jacket and seeming not at all phased by having awoken on a hillside. Sam was catching the occasional drop of water which fell from the trees above their heads. "Like wash day," he said. "Everything's washed new like."
They emerged from the undergrowth on to the cart track which lead to The Hill when they encountered a party of hobbits on the path, Bilbo among them, all looking like they were setting off on an expedition with cloaks and packs.
"Frodo!" Bilbo cried out on sight of his wayward cousin. "Frodo lad, what on earth possessed you to run off like that?"
Frodo had not thought about what he was going to tell everyone. He had no thoughts further than getting Sam breakfast. His head ached and he felt miserably chilled. "I didn't want Sam to be an orphan too!" Frodo choked out, not really knowing where the words were coming from. His voice sounded raw. He sank slowly to his knees, oblivious to the muddy path and set Samwise on his feet.
Bilbo felt as though someone had doused him in a barrel of cold water. "Oh Frodo. Sam's not an orphan. Mrs Gamgee is fine. Sam has a little sister and every one is terribly worried about the both of you."
Frodo blinked. "Alive! Truly?"
"Really and truly," Bilbo promised. "And the sooner we get you home the sooner you can see her." He put his hand out to help Frodo up.
Frodo looked up at Bilbo with wet eyes. He sniffed and made a move to stand up but as he stood the world suddenly tilted away from him and he fell forwards.
"Frodo!" cried Bilbo in alarm grabbing the boy as he fell. He caught him and pulled him up close against his chest – and felt the terrible heat radiating from the slender body. "Oh Frodo… What have you done?"
It was near 5 in the morning before anything like normality was resumed in the Gamgee household. The Gaffer sat in the kitchen looking very much the worse for the whole ordeal – and from his looks it was debatable just who had just given birth. Hamfast was very fond of his wife. They had married for love (and not for her rhubarb crumble as he was wont to joke) and that love had not faded one bit in all their years together.
The doctor had gone on his way earlier with a stern aside to Hamfast. "No more children," Dr Bramble had said. "You've a fine healthy brood already. Don't push your luck." And the Gaffer had nodded earnestly.
Bell was still sleeping and so was the babe. Hamfast had been glad to abandon all his fine male names in the face of the little scrap that was his newborn daughter. "Marigold it is then m'love," he kissed his exhausted wife.
Dawn was creeping over the hedgerows and hills of Hobbiton as he went out to get a breath of fresh air. It had been a filthy night – inside and out. One of those sultry summer thunderstorms had been brewing all evening and had finally split open the skies around midnight; much to the relief of all. The rain has been sloughing it down ever since and was only now slowing.
The house was very silent behind him. The children had been hurriedly packed away to neighbours but would be coming home soon as hobbits set out to work. There was already smoke coming from a few chimneys further down the hill.
Slowly the Gamgee family gathered at the breakfast table with May acting in her mother's place, and just about managing to produce edible porridge. Hamson was the last one home; having used the excuse to go and stay with his sweetheart's family and Hamfast frowned as his son walked in the door. "And where's our Samwise?"
"I thought he was with May and Daisy," said Halfred.
And so the Gamgee's first discovered their loss.
"Run up hill and see if he went with Mr Baggins," the Gaffer told his eldest son. "And don't any of you breathe a word of this to your ma."
Bilbo was awoken by a banging on his front door and went to answer it grumbling and pulling on his dressing gown. His heart sank when he saw the breathless Halfred on his doorstep – sure that the worst had happened.
"Beggin' pardon Mr Baggins, sir. Da said to ask if Sam's 'ere?" the boy asked, taking Bilbo completely off guard.
"Pardon?"
"Samwise. We don't know where 'e is."
Bilbo took a moment to take in this news and patted his dressing gown pockets distractedly as though he hoped to find the missing toddler in them. "Well, lets ask Frodo. The lad might have stayed here last night. How is your mother?"
"Fine, Sir, and the little un."
"I am very glad to hear it." Bilbo padded off down the corridor and got his second shock of the morning. No Frodo, and his bed had not been slept in, and the usual pile of yesterday's worn clothing was not thrown half on the chair and half off.
"Sticklebacks!" the old hobbit swore. "Where is that boy?"
Frodo's headlong flight had been bought to an abrupt halt by the turn in the weather forcing him to find shelter for himself and the small hobbit he had abducted. Looking out onto the dripping world and doing his fair share of dripping himself. He shivered and hunched further in on himself trying to sit on his feet to keep them warm.
In his attempt to escaped the possible tragedy last evening he had not really though about anything. He had some idea that if he ran fast enough he could outrun the possibility that Bell might die in childbirth. His distraught mind had fixated on that thought – he could not bear it if she died as well, if little Sam had no mother. And so he had taken Sam with him to protect him.
His thoughts were in a jumble.
Frodo turned his head. Sam lay sleeping behind him in a natural depression in the side of the hill. An overhang of grassy ledge kept the little boy quite protected from the elements and he was snugly wrapped up in Frodo's jacket. He would be waking soon though and wanting his breakfast and Frodo had none to give.
The older boy ran his fingers through his wet curls and rested his forehead on his soaked trouser knee. He did not know where to go or what to do. He had been a fool last night, running off like that. Maybe on his own he could have run away somewhere, to Bree or beyond – though he was vague as to what he would do once he was there. But his impetuousness had involved Samwise – and he would have to take the boy back and face it.
Resigning himself to this course of action Frodo went to retrieve Sam. The little boy was just yawning and rubbing his eyes with a chubby fist. "Come on Sam," Frodo said. "Time to take you home."
Trusting and unprotesting Sam went once more silently with his older friend.
Frodo's feet were leaden as they trod the muddy path back to The Hill. He felt like every step was dragging him back to the horrible reality of Bell's death. He shivered and hoisted Sam up to sit on his hip, still wrapped in Frodo's jacket and seeming not at all phased by having awoken on a hillside. Sam was catching the occasional drop of water which fell from the trees above their heads. "Like wash day," he said. "Everything's washed new like."
They emerged from the undergrowth on to the cart track which lead to The Hill when they encountered a party of hobbits on the path, Bilbo among them, all looking like they were setting off on an expedition with cloaks and packs.
"Frodo!" Bilbo cried out on sight of his wayward cousin. "Frodo lad, what on earth possessed you to run off like that?"
Frodo had not thought about what he was going to tell everyone. He had no thoughts further than getting Sam breakfast. His head ached and he felt miserably chilled. "I didn't want Sam to be an orphan too!" Frodo choked out, not really knowing where the words were coming from. His voice sounded raw. He sank slowly to his knees, oblivious to the muddy path and set Samwise on his feet.
Bilbo felt as though someone had doused him in a barrel of cold water. "Oh Frodo. Sam's not an orphan. Mrs Gamgee is fine. Sam has a little sister and every one is terribly worried about the both of you."
Frodo blinked. "Alive! Truly?"
"Really and truly," Bilbo promised. "And the sooner we get you home the sooner you can see her." He put his hand out to help Frodo up.
Frodo looked up at Bilbo with wet eyes. He sniffed and made a move to stand up but as he stood the world suddenly tilted away from him and he fell forwards.
"Frodo!" cried Bilbo in alarm grabbing the boy as he fell. He caught him and pulled him up close against his chest – and felt the terrible heat radiating from the slender body. "Oh Frodo… What have you done?"